thecapitol | So I set out across that way to strike them down, to make them pay

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So I set out across that way to strike them down, to make them pay

Who| Initiate + Sam & Tony. Initiate + Signless & Psiioniic.
What| The Initiate has gained some information. It's time to bring plans to fruition. But first he needs people.
Where| A capitol alley bindspot.
When| After speaking with Sigma, post-arena.
WARNINGS| Language.

He walked out the tower that morning, face bright, hopeful. He walked with body loose, mind mulling over idle simple things, only the barest trace of nerves underneath. He returns different.

When he comes back his spine is straight, shoulders back, wild hair still long and so cascading down. Each step is measured and his chin is lifted. He looks calm, right up until his fists curled tight and the ways his eyes blaze red.

He reaches them separate, calling them to meet him at different times. There is murder on his face and not a smile to be seen, until he says with all teeth, "He'd like us getting a meet on. MAYBE GET OUR MOTHERFUCKING CHILL REAL NICELIKE. Think as he and we could be about getting better knowing this motherfucking way. PLACE OUTERWAYS WHAT TO BE AT, BROTHER. He'd not be motherfucking late, were he you." He gives the time, and a tense goodbye, all without single chance of speakings otherwise. He would not be placated.

Sam would bring Tony. Signless would bring the Psiioniic. Two separate meetings. Two fail safes. At least one of them would offer what all he needs. He waits in alley, with graffiti painted bright as to mark their security there. His back is to the wall as he waits for his arrivals, hands opening and closing in want of clubs. Or maybe an enemy. It's been long since he felt like this

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There's pretty much nothing about that conversation that isn't a giant red flag. Sam'd have no idea what the hell was going on if he hadn't spent so much time talking with Kurloz. As it is, he has his suspicions - and that's even more of a red flag.

But Sam himself had been the one to suggest involving Tony in trying to get in contact with District 13. And Kurloz knows just how badly Sam wants to do that, after Natasha and Albert. Not because he believes they're there - honestly, he doesn't - but because he's throwing himself more into this now.

So he doesn't say anything, not yet. He asks Tony to go out with him, flirts a little on the way there, like he always does. It's too easy to flirt with Tony, and anyway, it would look weird if he tried not to. But he does turn a little bit more serious when they step into the blind spot.

"I kind of had ulterior motives for asking you out with me, man. I wanted to talk where the Capitol can't hear us."

It's been a long while since the Signless has seen him like this. Not that he ever thought that murder that lurked in the Initiate's eyes waiting for an excuse to show itself was ever really gone, just that he'd grown better at leashing it. That's why he doesn't protest now. He knows that whatever his moirail wants him and the Psiioniic for, it's serious.

He finds the alley with little trouble, yellowblood in tow. The graffiti is noted and his lip twitches just slightly. This is every bit as serious as he assumed it was, then.

"We're here."

Psii trusted Signless with his life, but not necessarily with making good life decisions. Psii had followed him easily enough here, unsuspecting of the cause because they could not talk freely. But he halted at the alley's entrance when he saw that Initiate's eyes were filled with bloodlust.

This is fine. It's okay, things are going to be okay. Psii fought down the tug of panic and threw a questioning look at Signless.

"Are you thure thith ithn't about the other day? Becauthe I am all about talking out grievantheth, but I am altho all about keeping my limbth."

Shit, bad turn of phrase, given events in the last arena. Oh well. Initiate should know by now that Psii had a shitty, morbid sense of humor. Right now though, Psii wasn't smiling. Outside the Tower was a great place to carry on with something clandestine, like a secret murder. Psii was aware that Initiate had some tenuous hold onto old feelings about past-future-him, as well as an attachment to Signless. But Psii was also instinctively and habitually afraid of a highblood who looked murderous.

He snorts at the unintended, but he still doesn't look proper happy. His smiles aren't anything more than a bearing of fangs. It's really more a grimace than anything real. But it's what they get for their arrival when he turns to them.

"AIN'T BEING CLOSE UP AT ALL ABOUT SHIT DONE DAYS THE FUCK PAST. Would up and motherfucking assure on that," He says.

He's spotted the twitch upon Signless's face. That made one of two aware what shit was about to be kicked legit. He straightens up, the highblood war general wearing his corpsemeats.

"YOU'RE BEING RECRUITED," He says. "Got a mission done only as for you and one motherfucking other. ALL GETTING SUCH MEETINGS BEING DONE IS WE. And he'll be giving sign and show as if he'll need you working together. BUT ALL FIRSTS IS WE NEEDING TO BE. You got up an interest in the rebellion, Psiioniic? OR NEED HE RELY UPON OPTIONS OTHER?"

Tony had easily followed Sam on his invitation and gone with him, flirting back and even laughing. He liked it. After everything he'd ended up living through by winning the arena he needed a bit of fun. And that fun Sam was clearly happy to dole out with the playful flirting and easy company.

He knows where all the blind spots are, he has since the jail break attempt, while he raises his eyebrow at the location but doesn't look overly surprised when Same speaks.

"Well, if you're going to ask me to marry you, you can do that in front of the cameras, give them something to talk about. Or are we here so Steve won't here."

He smirks. He knows this isn't going to be some funny or playful conversation. But when confronted with something that Tony doesn't immediately know about, he's going to try and act in a way to give him at least some footing in the situation.

"NOW NOW," He says, from his place at the alley wall. "Going to make a motherfucker right jealous having propositional romantic done up before him. ALL IN HIS SEEING TO BE DOING SUCH THINGS ENVY INSPIRING. Why don't we motherfucking save such celebrations pleasant for a time?" And likewise, he can postpone the pleasantries and get on down to righteous business. He ushers them close, on into the dark. Then he continues.

"GOT YOUR HOPES, SAM, KNOW AT YOU DO. 'Fraid we got ourselves for a different sort of rescue what as to be done. OUR GREATEST ALLIES IS UNDER THREAT. Would be a damn shame if at they were to choke on their own fucking gut-ropes." Truth, for all that he speaks like he doesn't give a damn one way or other about it. For all he speaks like it's near funny.

"TONY MOTHERFUCKING STARK," He begins, turning to his guest now. "He's got proposition at for you. SEE, ALL DIRE BE OF US FOR A LITTLE MOTHERFUCKING MOVEMENT. All fuckin stuck-stalled are we before the beast's maw. HE NEEDS TO SPEAK TO MANY WHAT'S TO BE KICKING THE WICKED NEWS ALL UP AT ONCE. Another associate being done talked to. ALREADY PROMISED AS TO GIVE SIGNAL FOR ANY NEEDING TO BE WORKING WITH. But otherwise, motherfucker's a back up as you is to he. THINK LIKE YOU CAN HELP AN INITIATE'S VOICE FOR BEING HEARD? Despite all soundings, he seems to find some trouble with that up on his own."

Edited 2015-03-21 23:52 (UTC)

Despite the seriousness that this conversation's probably going to entail, Sam chuckles a little at Tony's question. "Nah, man, I gotta figure out the Capitol's stance on threeway marriages before I think about proposing."

Then he shuts up, eyes narrowing a little as he listens to Kurloz talk. By now he's used to Kurloz's speech patterns, even if he still sometimes has a take a second to sort them out, but this? This is different. This is more warning signs, and Sam's about eighty percent sure he knows what's going on. He can't call him on it now, because what he's saying is way too damn important, but he is going to watch him, and make plans for after their talk is done.

"I've been wanting to contact District 13 for a while," Sam says, to catch Tony up. He assumes automatically that Tony knows what District 13 is, probably that he's even involved in the rebellion somehow, even though he's never gotten the chance to actually talk to him about it. "Met one of them when they were on a recruitement run here, but didn't get his number. But you're right, this is way more important."

He doesn't trust 13, but they are their best allies. And it defeats the purpose of trying to get Bucky and Steve out of the arenas if there isn't a District 13 for them to go to.

...and he doesn't want anything to happen to Barnes, the other one. He looks back at Kurloz. "I still want to be in on it. And I still think Bucky Barnes is our best chance at one of them actually believing what we've got to tell them, but it ain't like I can offer personal opinions on the other rebels."

Only when business is done, when plans are settled and squared away and Tony has wandered off, does Sam act on the suspicions he’s had since Kurloz asked him to bring Tony for a meeting.

He lingers, stepping in front of his friend with a raised eyebrow.

“What happened?” He assumes Kurloz is going to know what he’s talking about, considering he probably didn’t miss the way Sam was watching him during most of that conversation. If he doesn’t - or pretends like he doesn’t - Sam’ll clarify, but for now he just waits, wanting to see his response to that.

The Initiate would've expected this, getting confronted all up with the unrighteous done. The Grand Highblood lifts his brows, an unpleasant twitch going into that already terrible grin he's got on.

He laughs once, humorless. "DIDN'T YOU HEAR THE WICKED NEWS, BROTHER? Kicked that shit real clearlike as to be up and understood. WE GOT AT OUR ASSES A MOTHERFUCKING MISSION."

He leans on down, showing off his height that way, and how his eyes still burn ruby. "Ain't supposing you got focus up on that? AIN'T MOTHERFUCKING FIGURING AS WE GOT INTENTIONS STEERED FOR THE SEEING TO IT. You got something else on mind, afraid you're going to have to be about a little shitbit of specifying more to be done. OR WE COULD STOP WASTING OUR TIME, YEAH? What's a mammally say?"

Edited 2015-03-22 06:45 (UTC)

Sam nods, almost to himself, as he stares up at him. Maybe he should be afraid of that terrible grin, of how he's using his height in a way Sam'd never seen Kurloz do, but he suspects he has before, back when he was the person Sam's only heard about from Kurloz himself.

He isn't, though. This version of his friend has nothing on the mindless zombie that attacked them in the caves, at least not as far as Sam's concerned at the moment. "Gonna be like that, huh?" he asks quietly, but doesn't wait for a response before he keeps going.

"Who'm I talking to? Cause it sure as hell ain't the Kurloz Makara I know."

"DEAD! Checked the fuck out this morning. HIS GRANDNESS THOUGHT REMOVING HIS ASS AND SO BY THE SCRUFF HE WAS TOSSED TO CULLING FIELDS RAINBOW COLORED WHERE AT HE MOTHERFUCKING BELONGS. Flayed him and he put on his skin. MADE ALL MOTHERFUCKING MILENKO ILLUSORY WAS HE! ...That what you wanna hear?"

He would, wouldn't he? It's what they always want to hear, that he's being seperate, that's he's in different fucking parts, hell, it was what he wanted for so long and in a way it's true because he's crushed what's left as rightfully it should be. Still.

"THIS IS KURLOZ MAKARA!" He roars. And then he purrs. "This is who he is and always will be, Sam. GETTING ALL PICKY NOW? Thought we were friends." He laughs.

He should be afraid. Motherfucker should fear him.

"No, brother, it isn't," he says quietly. "Maybe it's what you want to tell me, because it's easier to hide behind-" He pauses, gesturing vaguely at all of him. "Behind this."

He may not have ever experienced the terrible things that Kurloz did, and it may be easier for him to overlook them because of it, but Sam has never once considered them separate from him. Just because someone changes enough from who they used to be that they might as well be two different people doesn't mean they are, doesn't mean that they don't have to own everything they did.

Sam knows that, as a counselor, a friend, and as someone who'd had to learn that first hand.

It doesn't mean he isn't worried, though. Whatever'd happened to bring this about must have been pretty damn terrible, and Sam... some of his demons are pretty fresh these days.

But he doesn't know how not to keep going with this, so he shrugs one shoulder. "You got picky first, man, you're the one who told me what I should be on the lookout for. This looks like one hell of a backtrack to me."

"THIS AIN'T NO FUCKING BACKTRACK!" He snaps and that smile is gone. He breathes hard. "You... think this is backtracking?"

It's a hypothetical of course. Sam's made his stance clear. Shame, that.

"THERE'S NO HIDING ANYTHING, THERE'S NO RUNNING FROM THIS! Really, brother. IS HE DOING ON ANYTHING WHAT AIN'T NEED DOING? Is he being anything what ain't need to be?" When he's like this, the fluctuations are sharper. Where before it was a balance of gargling nails to smooth flow, now is the difference of shrill and soft. Now is the difference of a canyan's edge and end.

"HE'S STILL UP ON YOUR SIDE, AIN'T HE? Ain't that being enough? ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S HE WHAT'S GETTING BACK TO PROGESSION! No more flailing about useless. PURPOSELESS! What fuckin use was that, might he ask? A KILLER WHAT COULDN'T CULL! Fuck that. AIN'T NOTHING BROKEN HERE. All made repaired on, as was meant to be. AS WAS MEANT TO FUCKING BE IS THIS! What you're remembering is the words of a broken motherfucker. A MOTHERFUCKER WHAT'S BEEN DONE MOTHERFUCKING SURPASSED."

He straightens up, shoulders back, chin lifted as he stares down. He pulls that smile back.

"He'll win this for us... HE'S GOING TO MAKE THEM PAY! Ain't that just?"

Like he always does, Sam leans back a little and listens, picking through that for what might need a reply and what he's going to let go.

He thinks about saying something about how Kurloz seems to be the one who wants to separate them, into broken and fixed, useless and useful, like the person who Sam calls his brother isn't who he is now. Thinks about talking more about backtracking, about the danger of using words like broken and repaired and useless.

Even thinks about going selfish, about telling him no, it isn't enough. That Sam wants his brother, and whatever the fuck he's doing right now sure isn't surpassing anything.

But after a moment he focuses on that last bit, on 'make them pay,' because that's personal. That might lead Sam to what'd gotten him to this point.

"Just for what?"

"FOR WHAT THEY'VE DONE! For what they've been at to do. THIS IS JUSTICE! This is what's being deserved. THEY'VE TAKEN FROM US! They're going to keep taking and taking until there ain't nothing left, brother. HE IS STOPPING THIS SHIT BEFORE IT GETS NO MOTHERFUCKING FURTHER. He'll line them up just like they did at my motherfucking descendant and--"

He twitches. His claws flare out and his teeth go to baring more. Then those red eyes get to narrowing at Sam.

"GOING TO MAKE THEM PAY, SAM. Took our families as they brought before to us Tributes." He spits the word. "GOT TO TAKING OUR MOTHERFUCKING TREASURED ONES TRUE! Lined them up and culled them each. ALL THEM WHAT WAS IN DISTRICT FIVE IS DEAD AND THEY HAVE NO HOLD ON HIM! A Highblood is going to hash the wicked unmercies by them if he's gotta fight through everyone else to do it."

He steps back and spreads his arms wide. He makes all to laugh, high and demented. There's a tremble in his digits and it is entirely with want of cull. So he's telling himself.

"THERE IS NOTHING AT FOR HIM TO LOSE, SAM! Everything is as all it's going to be. NOTHING. Motherfucking. MATTERS AS FOR WHAT HE DOES! So why not? WHY MOTHERFUCKING SHOULDN'T HE FLAY THEM ALIVE AND RIP THEIR CORPSEMEATS FROM THEM PIECE BY FUCKING PIECE? Why shouldn't he get down from grinding every single one of their bones? WHAT THE FUCK REASON? There's not. THERE'S NOT A DAMN ONE! And a Highblood really wants to hear sweet symphony of making them beg."

Edited (so many edits) 2015-03-23 04:34 (UTC)

There it is. That's what Sam's been looking for, and suddenly everything snaps into place. Suddenly this all makes sense.

"Gamzee."

Shit. God, Kurloz had been so damn happy when he talked about him, when they made plans for the future. Kurloz was going to fly and Sam was going to meet the kid and of course they'd gotten ahead of themselves. The Capitol took Natasha and Albert, why the hell would they have actually kept any of the people they weren't even making a pretense of not holding prisoner?

"There's so many reasons, it's just real damn hard to see them right now through all that anger." Sam's been there, more than once, but he doesn't say that right now. He's not sure how well he'll take the comparison at the moment. "You want me to start listing them? It always matters, Kurloz, and it always comes back around again."

He shakes his head, though, because right now he doesn't care so much about trying to talk Kurloz down from whatever this is.

It's grief, grief and anger and wanting to run away from it all, just like Sam did when his father was killed, like he did after Riley. "You changed your mind on how you feel about hugs?"

He hears the name and it makes him want to scream. He lurches forward with a snarl, just barely restraining himself, like ain't nobody got the right to so much as let that name touch their lips. But it's Sam, and for all he's like this, something still stops him.

Nothing should stop him. Ain't nobody should be worth the stall of claw and club. Subjugglator law, holy rule.

And Sam wants to fucking hug him. He screams without a second thought, "DON'T TOUCH ME!" The shaking spreads past just his hands. He takes a weary step back, wide-eyed as an injured animal. "Don't touch me..." He repeats.

He shakes his head once. Then harder again. The hair all long and wild adds to his looking unhinged.

"NO, IT DOESN'T," He says in a voice gone hoarse. "It doesn't matter. NONE OF THIS MATTERS, SAM, NO MATTER WHAT I DO!" He's breathing hard, swallowing hard. "But you're right on one thing. IT ALWAYS COMES BACK AGAIN. It's destined. MEANT TO BE. Every death. EVERY DEATH. We all get returning. DID YOU KNOW THAT, SAM?" More laughter. "We all go back no matter what, no matter what, no matter..." He trails. Then it's back. "I AM THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU OR I OR ANYONE IN THE MOTHERFUCKING UNIVERSE IS EVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO DO ABOUT IT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"

And with that roar echoing off the walls, some of the Kurloz Sam knew shows through. Terrified. He takes another step back. Then another.

"Don't touch me..."

For a second, Sam almost tries it anyway, almost reaches after him to take his arm and pull him in. But it's not in Sam to push someone screaming that, no even when he isn't sure if Kurloz really means it or is just scared.

No. Sam didn't know that. So that means Natasha back home and pissed, trying to figure out a way to get them back from there - or will she even know they're gone? He and Natasha had seen Steve moments before, but he'd been five months here without them, how the hell did that work? And Albert back on his world, with that questionable government and without Jet - with Jet? Either way it still means he is never going to see Albert again, and he-

He can't process that right now.

What he can do is focus on Kurloz, on the fear he's starting to see through the cracks.

"So what, you're just going to give up, then? Thinking that none of what you do will matter after you die so you're just let it all go right now, walk right off the path and not let anyone follow you?" Sam shakes his head again. "I got news for you, brother, there are too many people here you aren't willing to let you go a second before they have to."

He opens his stance a little, angling towards him and all but reaching out. "Don't back away from me now."

"I CAN'T. I can't..." He shakes his head. His arms wrap around his ownself to keep from coming apart and doesn't work. "I CAN'T BE THE MOTHERFUCKING HIGHBLOOD AND HAVE PEOPLE! I can't have people and be the Highblood. THAT'S HOW IT WORKS, SAM! And it's all set the fuck up, if I so much as sneeze in what's being wrong it'll doom the timeline. IT'LL DOOM EVERY MOTHERFUCKER I GOT A CARE FOR ANYWAY!" This is it. It's all spilling out. Before he had hope. Before he thought he could just do right if he returned to Alternia. Then he told himself he wouldn't have to up at all. But he does. He will. And that means everyone's on the line.

"Maybe even you... EVEN FUCKING YOU, SAM. Do you get that? WE MADE YOU. We were supposed to be your rulers. YOUR CREATORS. Didn't you never wonder why my stars was in your sky, Sam? IT'S BECAUSE WE, THE TROLLS, ARE YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MAKERS!" It's not triumphant. It's not all with the pride as of the Highblood that he says it. It's despair. Whole, utter, and complete. He wouldn't call them gods, that was the Messiahs alone, but he knew what it would sound like. And even that had been a hollow thing in the end. But the humans, Terezi, Gamzee... he can't doom them. He can't hurt the Psiioniic and Signless and Disciple either but he has to, he has to hurt them, he has to hang his matesprit and tear off the Summoner's wings and kill all the limebloods and so much more.

He can't take it. He needs to be someone what can.

"I can't... I HAVE TO. I have to be the Highblood. THERE'S NOT BEING NO OTHER OPTION. And the only way I can do it is I'm being a monster again. SO JUST FUCKING LET ME! Just let it go... I KNOW YOU WANT FAMILY, I KNOW YOU WANT GOOD! I know you want all for me to not tell you gone. BUT THIS IS IT. This is the motherfucking second you all have to let me go."

He's breaking. Again. And he can't stop it no more than he could the first time, when he was on a shore broken and bleeding, when he came here and his friends took him apart slow with their care. He can't stop it more than he could've stopped his past self losing his mind, or Gamzee changing from the good kid he knew. He can't stop it no more than his Avoxing and like with all times but that, something comes from him, wordless and agonized. Just one long scream.

Then he crumples, down to his knees, shivering and unable to control. Unable to stop the tears, or how he rocks, or the way his hands go to his horns like when he was five sweeps and alone and just needed to silence the world.

Edited 2015-03-23 06:13 (UTC)

He hadn't wondered, actually. The same stars were here in this sky, and in some of the other worlds he's learned about, it hadn't really occurred to him to wonder. And... he isn't going to try to say that what Kurloz is talking about isn't true for his world, but Sam doesn't believe it's true for his.

Not that it really matters what Sam believes, when it's one of the things that's gotten Kurloz like this. When it's what he's using to try to get Sam to let him go.

"I can't."

Even if he believed it was the best thing for Kurloz - which he doesn't, no way in hell - Sam isn't sure he could let him go like that, not so soon after losing Natasha and Albert. He doesn't waste anytime before dropping down to his knees next to him, reaching for him, hoping Kurloz'll let Sam pull him in close.

"I don't want good, Kurloz. I want this, I want you to talk to me when terrible shit happens, when you can't see another option. I don't know if I can ever help you round to seeing one but I wanna try, that's what I want." He lets out a shaky exhale.

"And how do you know what's going to happen with timeline shit, anyway? You don't think it's already been messed with because of all the ones that have crossed? I've already met alternate versions of two of my best friends, I got time gaps with ones who are from my world I can't explain, who's to say you aren't branching off and making an alternate timeline just by being here? Maybe there's already a version of you back there going on like you would've before you got here."

He can't. It goes through him. Just up and fucking runs him through and he makes a noise of pain for it. But compared to the scream, it's faint.

His breath catches and he flinches away from Sam at first. He curls in like he's going to be struck-- or worse, that he might hurt Sam somehow. But then, slowly, a little reluctantly he starts to lean against him. He doesn't get to be held like this. He was never small enough, except in his mind when all defences fell and he felt too weak.

He stays there against Sam, trembling, too ashamed to even want his his moirail-- past or present. Maybe he'd crawl to Kankri later. Maybe he'd slip into his room and barricade the door like he used to. It feels like he's there with Sam for a long time, trying to cease his crying. Hearing I don't want good, Kurloz. I want this. He finds himself starting up all over, trying to bury his face in his hands, claws digging in to skin and scalp, his hair all a veil too long.

"YOU-- S-SOUND LIKE T-TEREZI." He'd have laughed were it another time. If he maybe didn't feel like this. "Culled her bes' f-friend way back. I DID SOMETHING TERRIBLE. But she came to me. SHE ALWAYS GOT THIS FUCKIN..." Delusion is too cruel by her, even if it's right by him. "THING. Thinking I had something in me. GOT UNDER THIS MOTHERFUCKER'S SKIN. But that's how she got me. TOLD HER I COULDN'T DO RIGHT, AND SO TO BETTER CALL US ENEMY THAN FALSE FUCKING HOPES. Didn't accept that, her. SHE MADE ME DEAL. She'd get all to help when I couldn't see ways out but through hurting motherfuckers. ALL WHAT I HAD TO DO WAS TRY. Wanted to make Mituna proud too, but it was so hard, Sam. SO FUCKING HARD TO BE MAKING UP WHAT GOODNESS I DIDN'T HAVE."

He took the chance. He said yes to the deal. It was his greatest gift and downfall all the same. He screamed at her for what she had fucking expected, for why she didn't just go. And then she said because you stayed and he was doomed so fucking irrevocably.

In ways literal now.

"She told me. ALL THEM OTHER MOTHERFUCKERS OF MY WORLD GOT TO SPILLING BITS. It's how my world works there's... there's a thousand of me, Sam. MORE THAN. All those timelines as where something didn't got at to plan. THERE'S SO MANY BY WHAT ERRORS GOT BEING DONE OF THE CHOSEN TWELVE DESCENDANTS. And of my past life, when I was chosen. BUT IN NOT FUCKING ONE OF THEM HAVE I BEEN DIFFERENT. I just wanted one chance..." To be different. To be good. To not be doomed, to not be fucked up by some thing or other. "I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK. I don't wanna forget what I've got. I DON'T WANNA REMEMBER AS TO LOSE IT ALL NEITHER! I'd rather die. I AIN'T SCARED OF DYING, BUT THIS--" He's terrified. "If I'm dooming motherfuckers, I'm just killing everyone anyway. SHE'S A SEER OF SUCH THINGS, MY GIRL. Doomed motherfuckers get to paying, them what's closest even more so, and the center sinner most of all. I FIGURED IF AT I COULD STAY HERE, WHERE THE TIMELINES AIN'T BEING SO CLEAR, NOT SET NONE LIKE ALTERNIA, I COULD BE HAPPY! But even up without I'm just motherfucking tired. I'M SO TIRED OF HURTING. Being Highblood don't hurt as much so I..."

He hadn't even thought about it. It happened, came the fuck over him. He had option of this, his breaking down, or that, and of course he took that. He'd always rather sell his soul than break his heart. He always ended up doing it anyway.

"AND GAMZEE. Messiahs dammit. THEY KILLED HIM! They did fucking who knows what to him, and my other, and fucking Da. I SHOULD'VE BEEN THERE! I should've saved them! THEY ALL GO BACK TO DEATH OR FUCKING TURNING INTO ME. He didn't deserve that, Sam, Gamzee was good, he didn't need winding up like me..."

He just curls up, tighter and tighter. It was all so bad. But the worst thing? The worst thing was telling somebody.

Edited 2015-03-23 23:54 (UTC)

Sam stays quiet while Kurloz talks, just letting him get it out. He pulls him in close, hugs on to him as tight as he can.

It's hard, listening to Kurloz talk about himself like there's no good in him. Like because he's making it all up as he goes along, just trying to do right by the people he loves, he's somehow different than them at the core, less worthy. Like he doesn't know that most of the time, that's all the rest of them are trying to do, too.

Although no, it's not really like, Sam's pretty sure that's exactly what it is.

It's far from the first time that Sam's sat with someone who told him about the terrible things they did, about how that's all they were, and it felt like they were living a lie because no one else could see them. Because that's all they can see when they look in the mirror, and they don't understand why everyone else can't see it painted all over them.

But it's different because Kurloz is his friend. It's a pretty much impossible to be anything like emotionally detached here.

"So you wandered off the path." Sam finishes the sentence for him, voice soft, before he goes silent again.

His heart breaks a little when Kurloz says that Gamzee didn't deserve that. "I know, man, I know. It shouldn't have happened, and I am so damn sorry that it did."

God damn the Capitol.

"You stay sane for the people you love because you don't want to disappoint them, but there's times when it overwhelms you, when it gets too be too much because they can't see you're not the person they think you are, not when you keep failing like this. Not when all you can see is the way you failed, the so many things you could've done different." His voice cracks a little, and he swallows. "But brother, believe me, there is no such thing as a good person who's never been a failure. And this is not your fault, this is all on the Capitol."

His eyes have gone from ruby, to orange. They're leaning closer to gold as things go, but he's not there yet. He won't be for a while, he thinks. But this is getting close, as Sam holds on to him and he feels sick with guilt for it.

Wandered off the path. It's so fitting and yet jarring still. Something so seemingly harmless sounding.

Sam is all sorry, but Sam's the last one what needs to be. He'd be the last to have hurt the kid. It's hard to hear.

But not quite as hard as hearing what truths he holds intrinsic to him being relayed back. His head is lifting up, his paint run through with bits of clear indigo. He stares, with something like, but not quite disbelief. Something too miserable for wonder. It wounds him when Sam's voice cracks, like plunging a foot through a wooden bridge and catching flesh on the splinters and feeling a start in the heart.

Finally, he can't take no more. His arms go and wrap around Sam, hanging on tight. He stains Sam's shirt with his color and he allows himself to mourn. Mourn his Da, whom he never really had, his descendant who was and deserved better, a past self whom he'd have been happy being as before all the breaking came on down, a future that he just can't outrun. He tried. He really did mean to do right. It just wasn't good enough. It just wasn't being how Messiahs willed and there are holes in him what he won't never fix or fill. It all hurts really bad, but if Sam's to be believed, he should let it. Not to hurt himself more, but as not to.

"SAM?" He starts, when he can manage not to choke on the names and words what he wants to say. "When our times is up. WHEN THERE AIN'T BEING NOTHING LEFT. And we all gotta go back... WILL YOU REMEMBER ME? Not being the Highblood? JUST... Just Kurloz? WILL YOU HOLD THAT FOR ME, IF AT YOU CAN? All only motherfucking wanting... I wanna exist somewhere as... EVEN IF IT'S JUST MEMORY. Even if I can't never actually be... THE LAST TIME I DIED AND FORGOT EVERYTHING, STARTED OVER..." From Beforus to Alternia, dying to bring a second chance. All he did was make a world of fucking murder. All he left behind was a ghost what wasn't who he should've been. "...Nobody remembered none of the good. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO MEAN SOMETHING AND IT UP AND DIDN'T." He's all shaking and cracking tones as he speaks what's the last thing he can hope for. "I'd really like it if this time maybe it motherfucking did, you feel me?" Please let this all mean something, he thinks. If he can't have safety and home and sanity, at least can't he have this? Sam might not be able to, he knows.

He hopes Sam lies, if so.

Edited 2015-03-26 05:52 (UTC)

Ah. Well, the Signless can't say he hadn't expected this. If the rebellion needs anything after Brainiac's very unfortunate execution, it's people with absolutely terrifying technological ability. That's something the Psiioniic has an over-abundance of, and on top of that he's guaranteed to be interested in a rebellion. He followed Signless around on Alternia, didn't he? The Initiate has made a good choice. Even if the Psiioniic doesn't trust him personally, the rebellion at large is something he'll most likely want to be a part of.

"If it changes your opinion any," he offers, "I am already part of this rebellion. I have been for a very long time."

"Of courthe."

He only said this once, but he was replying to both Initiate and Signless. Of course he wanted to join. Of course he thought Signless might have been a part of it. His face hardened into impassive stone, a subconscious reaction to being in danger but needing to talk clearly. His instinct was to dissemble like this, especially in front of a highblood, even if Initiate knew so much about him even before he arrived. Psii didn't have that layer of bullshit to hide behind. He was being recruited. He stepped closer.

"You already know what I've done on Alternia. That should be anthwer enough. But give me the detailth, and I'll tell you if thith ith a dumbath plan that'll get uth all culled. You deliberately put Kankri in danger, you get too murder-happy to think thtraight, and all betth are off."

Psii was hoping that the deal he made when he met Initiate for the first time would never need to be put into motion. So far, he thought of it less and less. He'd even started to believe that Initiate truly wanted to preserve their lives, even at great personal cost, whatever his reasons might be. Then something like this came up, and suddenly all the chips were on the table. A test.

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So I set out across that way to strike them down, to make them pay

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